


An Unearthly Child at the Chalet School

by paranoidangel



Category: Chalet School - Elinor M. Brent-Dyer, Doctor Who (1963)
Genre: Crossover, Doctor Who 50th Anniversary Ficathon, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-22
Updated: 2013-11-22
Packaged: 2018-01-02 08:33:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,854
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1054690
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/paranoidangel/pseuds/paranoidangel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What if Susan wasn't at Coal Hill School, but the Chalet School? A re-write of <em>An Unearthly Child</em> crossed over with the Chalet School.</p>
            </blockquote>





	An Unearthly Child at the Chalet School

**Author's Note:**

> Beta by hhertzof

With Miss Wilson's well known sarcastic tongue, science was a lesson all the girls made sure to pay even more attention to than they might in other lessons. Besides, she was a good teacher who made her lessons interesting and took time to make sure all the girls understood the concepts she explained. And, of course, experiments were always fun to do.

Susan, however, seemed to have forgotten all of this on this cold, wet, November day.

Today they were discussing chemical changes. To illustrate her point, Miss Wilson had handed out some litmus paper and asked the form what they expected to see.

As was often the case, Susan put her hand up first and stood when Miss Wilson called upon her. "Red will change to blue, of course."

Miss Wilson raised an eyebrow, a hint to the rest of the form that she wasn't keen on Susan's tone, but Susan missed it.

"It's because we're dealing with two inactive chemicals. They only react in relation to each other." Despite her knowledge of the subject she sounded like she was reciting the answer.

"That is the point of the experiment." Miss Wilson laced her voice with sarcasm and a few of the girls cringed, embarrassed on Susan's behalf.

"Yes, I know." Susan couldn't have entirely missed the mistress's tone, given that she blushed, but she carried on anyway. "But couldn't we try with two active chemicals? Then red could turn blue all by itself and we could get on with something else."

The rest of the form stared at her, amazed by her attitude and she shrank back.

"If you don't want to participate," Miss Wilson said coldly, "I'm sure there's some hemming Matron could find for you to do."

"I'm sorry, Miss Wilson," Susan said. "I didn't mean to be rude. It's just that I really like science."

Miss Wilson shook her head. In her thirty years of teaching she'd never encountered anyone quite like Susan. Even though term was now more than a few weeks old, the girl still came out with some surprising things. She motioned for Susan to sit and went on with the lesson, Susan staying quieter than she usually did.

By the end of the lesson, the rest of the form were dying to ask Susan how she dared say those sorts of things to any mistress, let alone Miss Wilson, but they had to be patient, as Miss Wilson called for Susan to stay behind.

"I am sorry for what I said." Susan got her say in first, sure she was about to get one of Miss Wilson's famous lectures.

Perhaps Miss Wilson would have voiced her thoughts about the girl's behaviour, but she looked so earnest she was unexpectedly lenient. "I'll let it go this time." She emphasised those last two words. "But I won't be so forgiving in the future."

Susan smiled and nodded. "Thank you. It won't happen again." She hefted the books she held in her arms, but Miss Wilson hadn't finished.

"You must remember that not everyone your age has the scientific knowledge you do. We might have put you in a higher form, but it's impossible to have you working with girls any older when you are behind on other subjects, such as geography."

"Yes, Miss Wilson," Susan said, the model of an obedient Chalet school girl. "I won't forget."

"Now, about last week's prep," Miss Wilson went on. "I am expecting an explanation as to why you haven't done it when everyone else managed it." There had been something in Susan's face as she apologised at the beginning of the lesson that had made Miss Wilson wait until they were in private before she asked. She hadn't known of a reason for Susan's prep to be excused and usually her science was so good, so there must be something up. She imagined it might be that her grandfather was ill and Susan hadn't told anyone.

"It's impossible," Susan explained, causing Miss Wilson to raise her eyebrows. Susan went on to say, "You have to use D and E. You simply can't work on only three of the dimensions."

"Three of them?" Miss Wilson was curious in spite of herself. "I suppose you'd say the fourth is time," she guessed. "Then what is the fifth dimension?"

"Space."

Miss Wilson sighed. Susan had sounded like she really believed it too. "Please just do the problem that's set."

Susan had no choice really but to say, "Yes, Miss Wilson," but it was dutiful with no enthusiasm behind it.

Miss Wilson shook her head and followed her out of the chemistry lab before she missed all of Kaffee und Kuchen.

~*~*~

The Chalet School, being situated in the Swiss Alps, had invigorating air and beautiful views. Its unusually friendly relations between staff and girls made it a pleasant place to work. However, there were sometimes occasions when newer mistresses in particular wondered why they'd come here. Today was one of those times for Barbara Wright. She sighed and put a red pen through the whole sentence in the book she was marking.

Rosalind Moore, who had been despairing over IVa's maps on the other side of the table, looked over at her friend. "What is it, Barbara?"

Barbara put her pen down. "It's Susan Foreman. She's been living in this country for five months, yet she's put down that the Swiss currency is the Euro. I don't know where she's got that from - I've never even heard of it." Susan's handwriting was too neat to mistake it for the Franc.

"That is odd," Rosalind agreed, frowning. "She has money, same as the others, doesn't she?"

Barbara was about to answer that yes of course she did, but then thought back to times when the girls had the opportunity to spend money. Since she lived on the Platz she didn't go to church with the rest of the school, so Barbara had never seen her give to the collection. On their half term outing others had bought trinkets, but Susan hadn't. Now she came to think of it, she'd never seen Susan buy anything. "Maybe she doesn't have much money."

"That would explain it then." Rosalind picked up her pen, but it hadn't settled the problem for Barbara. It wasn't the only thing that was odd about Susan.

"Her work is so patchy," she continued, before Rosalind had put her pen to paper. "She's brilliant at some things and terrible at others. She knows a lot about the French Revolution, but sometimes she comes up with the oddest suggestions."

"She is the same with languages, also," Jeanne de Lachenais put in from across the room.

The whole staff room was now listening. Barbara felt a little guilty at interrupting everyone, but she was keen to solve this mystery and sharing it was the easiest way.

"She is a genius at all of them," Jeanne continued, waving an arm. "Every one of them and I know not how."

"She's travelled a lot, though, hasn't she?" Rosalind asked. "She mentioned something about wanting to settle in one place."

"But, yes," Jeanne said. "Hearing nothing but that language will give you fluency." It was what they aimed for at the Chalet School, but despite two days a week spent speaking French and another two German, some of the Girls still had such odd grammar and British accents.

"That doesn't explain her Latin," Deb Smith put in.

"She's not the first girl we've had with uneven schooling, though," Nancy Wilmot said, from the corner, where she was sitting playing cards with her good friend, Kathie Ferrars.

A voice came from the doorway and they all turned to see its owner. "Let me guess who you are talking about: Susan Foreman."

There were exclamations over Nell Wilson's visit. Although she was often here for lessons she didn't always have time to visit the staff room. Since she was head of the finishing branch, St Mildred's, it meant she spent more time over there and was much missed by the staff here who'd worked with her in England and Austria. She sat in an armchair by the fire as Jeanne got up to make some more coffee.

Barbara waited until everyone was quiet, still being a little in awe of Miss Wilson herself, despite her friendliness, and then she filled the co-Head in.

"She is a mystery," Nell said agreed thoughtfully. In her turn she told the group what Susan had said in that afternoon's science lesson. "Sometimes I think she knows more science than I do."

Barbara was relieved someone agreed with her. Especially someone with as much experience as Miss Wilson. She didn't think it was as easily explicable as Rosalind and Jeanne had.

"But she's not the first mysterious pupil we've had," Nell went on. "We've certainly had our fair share of those."

"There was Jane Carew who came a few years ago," Kathie Ferrars put in. "She had a very odd way of speaking, calling everyone, including the mistresses, darling. It turned out her parents were travelling actors, so she been around actors all her life."

"If you want to talk about mysteries, how about Flavia Anserl?" Nancy Wilmot said. "All right, so it wasn't her that was the mystery, just the strangers asking about her." Kathie nodded, but at Barbara's questioning look Nancy explained. "Her father was a policeman and some criminals he'd brought to justice were out for his daughter to get revenge."

Barbara's eyebrows rose. That sounded like more adventure than she expected to find in the Swiss Oberland. She'd come here to teach and experience life in another country. The most adventurous thing she intended to experience was her first time skiing, when winter set in.

"I could tell you of plenty more." Nell was warming to her subject. "Such as Gertrude Beck, who was really a German sent by the Nazis to spy on us. And when I first joined, not long after the school opened, a girl called Elisaveta Arnsornia turned out to be the heir to the throne of Belsornia."

Barbara had heard something about a princess being at the school, but hadn't been sure it was really true. And if it had she would have thought everyone had known the princess's background from the start. Surely she would have had bodyguards. She wanted to ask more, but it would be getting further off the subject. "So Susan's not unusual in being unusual," she concluded.

"No." Nell smiled. "But if there's a reason for it, beyond her travelling leading to inconsistent schooling, I'm sure we'll find it sooner or later."

Barbara nodded. She was probably right and Nell had had a lot more experience than she had - when Nell joined the school Barbara was still a child herself at a different school in England. She picked her pen back up and resigned herself to waiting for the mystery of Susan Foreman to reveal itself.

~*~*~

"Are we going to the Auberge, Miss Wright?" Marjorie Graves, who was partnering Susan at the back of the croc turned round to ask her question as they set out from the school.

Barbara smiled, knowing how the girls enjoyed introducing new people - staff and girls alike - to the secret of the echoes. They'd been the same with her when she'd joined the school in the spring and she had been amazed to discover something like that so near to the school. Although it shouldn't have surprised her that Switzerland, with its beautiful scenery, had more surprises in store than just mountains.

"I'm dying to know what's at the Auberge you're all so excited about." Susan sounded disappointed not to be going, but there would be other opportunities.

"It's the most wonderful thing ever," Marjorie gushed.

"Susan will have to be patient and wait until the paths have dried up." A week of almost non-stop rain following an early winter fall of snow had left large puddles everywhere. The playing fields had turned to mud and no one was allowed on them. The girls had largely been disappointed not to be able to play sports or even go out for skiing or coasting, although the latter would come as winter set in.

There were sighs from the girls, but then they turned to another topic. Barbara tuned their chat out and glanced up at the sky. Today the head, Miss Annersley, had declared the forecast good enough for a walk and had cancelled the first two lessons this morning so the girls - and the mistresses - could get some exercise. It was only just in time, for many of the girls were getting restless and already the Middles had disrupted prep on three occasions, despite the prefects putting on a gym tournament two days ago.

The sky was still grey, which was probably why they were only going on a short walk. The girls all had their raincoats with them, so if they were caught in a downpour no one would get too wet. Although six months in the Oberland had taught Barbara that you couldn't be too careful with the weather, she didn't think that a thunderstorm was in the offing.

"Miss Wright, you're getting behind."

Barbara focussed back on the girls in front of her, reddening at being accused of the same thing the girls often did when they weren't paying enough attention. She was supposed to be making sure none of the girls at the back got too far behind and the two prefects with them, Marcia Watson and Stacia Maslowski, were at the front, leading.

Susan grinned at her, amused to catch a mistress out.

Barbara wasn't too upset, though. It was just a walk and besides, it wasn't something likely to warrant any gossip later. "Careful you don't get behind too," she warned Susan and Marjorie, a twinkle in her eye.

Obediently they quickened their steps to catch up to the pair in front of them. They were still half-looking behind them at Barbara to see if she was keeping up, which meant they didn't spot the rather large puddle in front of them.

Marjorie had the worst of it, stepping straight into a hole and disappearing into the cold, dirty water up her thighs, the bottom of her coat spreading out behind her. She screamed as the footing disappeared beneath her feet. Susan's scream followed on.

Susan had managed to miss the deepest part of the hole, but even where she was the water was above her ankles. She'd grabbed Marjorie's hand, which was just as well. Given the way Marjorie shook she might not have been able to stand up on her own.

The screams had made those nearest turn round, but Barbara couldn't be sure how far away they'd been heard. "Carlotta," she shouted out to the nearest girl. "Please tell Marcia and Stacia to come back. Carefully. And don't run!" she added, as Carlotta looked panicky.

Carlotta accordingly walked, albeit fast, up past the other girls toward the prefects.

Barbara carefully stepped up to the edge of the puddle, not wanting to end up in it herself too.

"It's all right, Miss Wright," Susan said brightly. "I've got her."

Barbara wasn't sure how long she'd have her for, though, and Marjorie didn't seem to be able to get herself out.

"My shoe's stuck," Marjorie said in a panicked voice, answering that question.

Barbara stayed calm despite her worry, knowing that was the best way to convince the girls there was nothing to worry about. "Then slip your foot out of your shoe." Marjorie being wet was doing her worse damage than being shoeless at the moment.

"I can't!" she wailed.

There was nothing else for it but to wade into the puddle herself. Marjorie was a tall girl and the shorter Susan wouldn't be able to pull her out without help. Barbara winced as the cold water seeped into her shoes and wet her stockings. By the time she was close enough to grab Marjorie's other hand, the water was lapping around her ankles. At least now she was close enough to grab Marjorie's other hand. "We're going to pull you out," she told Marjorie. "Ready?" she asked Susan.

Susan nodded, her face white. She wouldn't be able to stay in the water for much longer either.

They began pulling and there was a slurping sound from the mud at the bottom of the puddle where Marjorie was standing. The girls had all returned by this time and there were choruses of "Susan!" and "Marjorie!" and a "Miss Wright!" from one of the prefects.

"Don't come too close," Barbara warned, glancing up to see where everyone was. It looked like the prefects had everything in order though and were keeping the girls back.

However, while she was checking on the other girls, she wasn't pulling quite as hard as Susan. As a result Marjorie came unstuck all of a sudden and fell towards Susan. When she saw, Barbara gave a good pull herself, but she was too late and Susan's footing was more tenuous than Barbara thought. With the unexpected weight of Marjorie coming towards her, Susan gave a cry and fell backwards.

Now that Marjorie was close enough, Barbara put an arm around her and reached out to Susan. But she was too late. Susan hit her head on a rock and lay unconscious.

"Susan!" Now Marjorie really was crying.

Barbara ignored her, knowing it was more important to get her out of the water, and she was more worried about Susan in any case. She passed Marjorie over to the outstretched hands of the prefects, who could be trusted to know what to do with her, then turned to tend to Susan. 

Susan had now ended up wetter than Marjorie, with the edge of the water lapping at her chest. When Barbara bent down to her she put her hand beneath Susan's head and turned cold at the sight of the blood on her hand. Matron made sure they all took first aid kits wherever they went, but Barbara didn't feel prepared.

She called out to Susan and patted her cheek, hoping that Susan would wake up, but she never even stirred. Although Barbara needed to bathe her head wound, lying in the puddle wouldn't help either. The ground wasn't much drier, but Barbara got a couple of the bigger girls to help her pull Susan out and lay her on Barbara's raincoat.

She had just begun bathing Susan's wound, while one of the girls covered Susan with Marcia's raincoat, when another girl shouted that she could hear a car coming. Barbara relaxed a little, knowing she could now easily get Susan and Marjorie back to somewhere warm, hopefully before they caught a chill.

"It's Dr Chesterton!" someone called out and then there he was by Barbara's side, crouched down to examine Susan.

Barbara had never been as pleased to see him as she was at that moment. For once she didn't even care what she looked like, she was just glad of someone to help.

He put a hand on her shoulder and picked up Susan's wrist, pressing two fingers to it to feel her pulse. Barbara continued what she was doing, knowing it would help, while she filled him in on what had happened. He frowned but complimented Barbara on her first aid skills. He effortlessly picked Susan up and bundled her into his car.

While he did that, Barbara packed away the first aid kit, trying to will her hands not to shake so much. She glanced up to see Marcia guiding Marjorie over to Ian's car, and she turned to Stacia. "Will you get the girls back to school and tell someone what happened?"

Stacia nodded and went to round up the rest of the form. They were all worried and some were tearful. Barbara was grateful for the cool heads of the prefects and would be sure to mention that to Miss Annersley when she got back to school. A few girls managed to find time for backward glances at her and the car, before they all followed Stacia, with Marcia ushering the laggards.

Then Dr Chesterton's hand was on her arm, helping her up. "Come with us to the San."

Barbara wanted to protest that she was all right, but she stumbled as she stood, and knew there was no point in arguing, so allowed him to lead her to his car. She turned round once she was in and saw Susan was unconscious and pale on the back seat. Marjorie was beside her, white and shivering herself. "We'll soon be at the San," she assured Marjorie, who nodded, then returned her attention to Susan, patting at her shoulder.

Barbara saw a concerned glance in her direction from Dr Chesterton and smiled at him before pulling her coat tighter around her, trying not to shiver herself.

~*~*~

Ian Chesterton's office was warm and comfortable. Aside from the desk and a couple of visitor's chairs, there was a small armchair over by the bookshelves. Much as Barbara liked to read, the medical textbooks didn't appeal to her, so she curled up in the armchair, gazing out of the window at the mountains shrouded in mist.

As soon as they reached the San, Ian had handed Barbara and Marjorie over to Matron, while he attended to Susan. The hot bath had worked wonders and Barbara felt much better - physically anyway. A call to the school had assured her that the rest of the form had returned without any further incidents and after her bath Marjorie had been stolen away by her father. Now she only had Susan to worry about and worry she did.

She kept going over what had happened and what she should have done differently. She'd heard stories from the rest of the staff about accidents on walks and school trips and should have known to be more vigilant. Even though the girls were fifteen and there were prefects with them, the form was still her responsibility. She should have looked after them better.

She would have liked to have spoken to Susan's grandfather about what had happened, but he wasn't on the telephone and when someone had been sent to his chalet no one had been there. So that would have to wait. Barbara hoped she'd be able to reassure him of Susan's recovery when she did speak to him.

In an effort to quiet her mind she decided to go in search of some water for the forlorn pot plant in the corner, but just she stood, Dr Chesterton - Ian - entered the room. Barbara eyed him anxiously and he gave her a reassuring smile.

"Susan's going to be fine," he said, dropping a large flimsy transparency on his desk.

But she'd worked herself up and could only nod at that, swallowing to try and dissolve the lump in her throat.

Ian came over to stand beside her and put an arm around her, his smile gone now. "Barbara, what's wrong?"

She stared out of the window again. "Nothing." He didn't move and didn't say any more, so after a moment she admitted, "If she'd died it would have been my fault."

His arm tightened around her shoulders. "It was never that bad. Susan's a healthy girl, she's unlikely to die from a small hit on the head."

"Small!" She focussed her attention on him, disbelieving. Susan had been unconscious and bleeding, how could he call that small?

"Head wounds are deceiving. They bleed more than they should." He sighed. "I should have made sure Matron stayed with you. I should have known you'd feel guilty."

She shook her head. How could he have known that when she hadn't known it herself?

He caught hold of her shoulders with both hands and turned her to face him. "It's not your fault," he said firmly. "Accidents happen. No one can expect you to keep your eye on twenty or so children at once. Besides, they're old enough to know better than to fall into a puddle."

She smiled a little at that, remembering how they'd first met. It had been in spring when the rain and the snow melt had conspired to cause small floods. They'd both been out walking; he'd moved to one side to let her pass on the path, misjudged his footing and fallen into a muddy puddle. Fortunately it hadn't been a particularly deep one, so she'd been able to help him out without him losing either of his shoes. With the school being closer than the San she'd brought him back there. After he'd been tended to by Matron, he and Barbara had chatted over bread twists and milky coffee in the staff room. Since that time, they'd seen each other often.

"That's better." He smiled himself. "She was awake when I left, so when the nurse has finished with her you can see her." He let go of her shoulders. "And while we have a minute, I have a mystery you might be able to help me with."

She frowned, wondering what possible help she could be.

Even though she hadn't answered, he picked the transparency off his desk. When he held it up to the light she could see it was an x-ray. "Look at this."

Barbara studied it politely, but couldn't be sure what he could see in it. It was just an x-ray of the chest to as far as she could tell. "Biology's not my strong point."

"See here." He stepped closer to her again. "There's one heart-" he traced it on the x-ray -"and there's another."

She frowned. Now he pointed it out she supposed they could be hearts. "That can't be right. One of them must be something else."

"That's what I thought." He put the x-ray back on the desk and then perched on the edge of it facing her. She wondered if he'd ended up with their feet touching by accident, but she didn't move away. "When I examined Susan I felt a double pulse. I thought I was imagining it, or accidentally feeling my own pulse as well as hers, so when I got her back here I listened to her heart. And I could hear two heartbeats."

That wasn't normal, she knew that much, but two hearts? "Some sort of echo?" she guessed.

He shook his head. "It could have been some sort of heart condition she never told us about, so I checked. And found that." He pointed at the x-ray.

Barbara glanced over at it, despite her not being able to see much of it from here. "There must be a reason." Despite having discussed Susan's oddness with the other mistresses yesterday, none of it had extended to anything physical. Although odd heartbeats were unlikely to be related her school work anyway.

Ian shook his head. "If there is I can't find any precedent for it."

"Some people can have extra fingers, can't they?" She didn't want him to think she didn't believe him, so she thought back to rumours she'd heard, trying to find a way to back him up. "Anne Boleyn was rumoured to have six fingers on one hand."

He chuckled. "A finger is somewhat smaller than a heart. Besides, someone would have found out before now and I can't imagine they'd have kept it quiet in the medical community."

She could believe that. "So what should we do about it?"

Ian smiled at her. "Thank you for the 'we'."

She smiled in return, glad he knew she was on his side.

"I think we should get her grandfather in here." He sounded like he had thought this through and already had a plan. "He must know something."

"I'm not sure. Susan said he doesn't like strangers." Or she wanted to keep the school away for some reason, but either way she hadn't made it sound like an interview would go well.

Ian frowned. "He's a doctor, isn't he? That's a bit of a lame excuse."

Barbara shrugged, although he'd echoed her thoughts. She wasn't at all sure, though. As far as she could tell no one on the Platz had spoken to Susan's grandfather, not even Jo Maynard, who knew everyone.

"Now I really want to talk to him." He grinned.

Barbara smiled at Ian's enthusiasm. "Let's see what Susan says first."

He nodded and led her to Susan's room.

"Oh, Miss Wright." At their entrance, Susan sat up in bed. "And Dr Chesterton."

Susan was smiling and unruffled and so different from the unconscious girl they'd brought in here that Barbara felt more relieved than Ian's comforting words had made her. She smiled at the girl and pulled a chair over to the bed. Ian glanced over her chart, giving the appearance of someone who wasn't listening to their conversation. "How are you feeling, Susan?"

"Oh, I'm fine." She didn't seem at all concerned about herself. "How's Marjorie?"

"She's fine too. Her father works here, so he's bundled her up and taken her home for a rest." At least she knew Marjorie was being well looked after, and with the hot bath and her father's presence, Marjorie had been far more like her usual self too. Fortunately she was not a child overly prone to illness.

Susan nodded. "Dr Graves, I know. I am glad she's all right. I was terribly worried about her."

"She was just as worried about you." Barbara suspected that if Dr Graves hadn't been so insistent Marjorie would have refused to leave until she'd seen Susan. "But now I'll be able to tell her you're all right."

"Can I go back to school now? Or home?" She gazed at Barbara with big eyes.

Barbara turned to Ian, who put the chart down and came around the bed to stand by the Susan on the other side.

"I'll have a look at you." He pulled out a pen light and shone it in each of Susan's eyes in turn. "I did want to ask you about something. Have you ever been diagnosed with a heart condition?"

Barbara thought Susan had a worried expression on her face for a moment, but then she said brightly, "No, never."

"Are you sure?" He put the pen back in the pocket of his lab coat. "Should we ask your grandfather?"

"Oh, no, there's no need to do that," Susan said, calmly. "He would never have taken me travelling with him if there was anything wrong with me."

That sounded reasonable. No grandparent would drag their granddaughter around the world, not always being near a hospital, if she was at all frail. Susan certainly hadn't ever seemed frail and Miss Annersley hadn't said anything about her needing to be careful with her health. With a history of delicate girls in the past, the school were always careful with the girls' health.

But then there was that x-ray.

Barbara decided to take over the questioning, hoping Susan would respond to a more friendly manner without the doctorly overtones. "Dr Chesterton heard two heartbeats when he examined you and found two hearts on an x-ray. He's a little worried about what he means."

Susan tensed. "It must just be an error with the equipment or something. Can I go home?" She turned to repeat her earlier question to Ian. "I would sleep much better there. And I feel fine."

"You certainly look good for someone who was unconscious not so long ago." Ian sighed, perhaps accepting that Susan wasn't going to answer his question about her heart. Or hearts.

"So I can go?" She pushed the covers away and swung her legs over the side of the bed.

"Not so fast." Ian put a hand on her shoulder. "You still need to stay here overnight. You can't be too careful with head injuries."

"But I don't even have a headache."

"I'm sorry." He smiled apologetically. "But if you get a good night's sleep I'll take you back to school in the morning."

Susan sighed and lay back on the bed, pulling the covers up and folding her arms over them.

Barbara gave her a sympathetic glance.

"Miss Wright can tell your friends they'll see you tomorrow," Ian said, but Susan seemed to have found something fascinating to stare at on the ceiling, so Ian and Barbara slipped out of the room.

They didn't go far - just back to Ian's office. "I think we'll have to ask that grandfather of hers." He looked pensive as he shut the door.

"Someone should let him know she's here." Barbara put a hand on Ian's arm. "He'll worry when she doesn't come home after school, if he's back by then."

"She's still a day pupil?" Ian sounded amazed. "She should be a weekly boarder before the weather gets any worse."

"I know. I tried to convince her, but she was worried about leaving her grandfather alone. I think he's quite an elderly man." Maybe that was why he'd finally stopped travelling and sent Susan to school.

Ian shook his head. "Why don't I drop you back at the school and we can stop by his chalet on the way?"

Barbara smiled. "Good idea."

~*~*~

They were nearly at Ian's car when Barbara saw a flash of blue and clutched at Ian's arm. "What's that?" She pointed over to the trees which grew around the San.

Ian looked, but shook his head. "I can't see anything."

"I saw something," she insisted and before he could complain she let go of him to investigate it for herself.

He sighed, but followed her. "It's probably just an animal searching for food."

She shook her head, knowing it was more than that.

It turned out she was right, although she wished she wasn't. It was Susan, trying to hide behind a tree and acting as if they wouldn't be able to see her if she couldn't see them. "Susan, what are you doing?" She must have escaped out the window.

Now she was caught Susan slumped a little and stepped away from the tree.

"Your coat's still wet, you'll catch a chill in that." Ian was already taking his coat off.

"I just wanted to go home," Susan protested, but the cold made her sound a little pathetic.

"If we take you back inside do you promise to stay there?" Ian put his coat across her shoulders and she pulled it round her.

Susan raised her chin. "I'll just escape again."

Ian sighed. "All right, I'll take you home. But over my better judgement."

Susan grinned, victorious.

"Let me just tell the nurse before she worries about her missing patient." Ian passed Barbara the keys and said, "Wait in the car," then lowered his voice to whisper, "Maybe her grandfather will see reason."

~*~*~

Susan hopped out of the car seconds after Ian pulled over, leaving Ian's coat on the back seat. She stopped to say, "Thank you, Dr Chesterton," and ran off towards the one-storey chalet at the end of the Platz before either of them could protest.

"We should have walked her to the door." Although it seemed like Susan didn't want that, Barbara got out of car. They did still need to speak to her grandfather.

Ian turned the engine off and followed her. Even though they'd only taken their eyes off her for a moment, by the time they were walking up the short path to the front door Susan had already disappeared.

"Her grandfather will bring her back to the San if she gets worse, won't he?" Barbara looked anxiously over at Ian.

"I hope so." It was getting dark already, with the low clouds, but there was just enough light to see his worried expression when they exchanged glances.

"There aren't any lights on." Barbara frowned. "Are you sure Dr Foreman is home?"

"We'll find out." When there was no answer to their knock, Ian stepped back and looked over at the dark windows on either side of the front door. "Maybe she went round the back," he suggested. The chalet was set in a garden with a small hedge around it, so it was bound to have a back door.

She nodded and followed him, but touched his arm. "It's silly, but I feel frightened. As if we're about to interfere in something best left alone."

He smiled and patted her hand. "It's just a teenage girl trying to get away from the San. She's not the first."

"Don't you feel it?" she persisted.

He shook his head. "I take things as they come."

She had to leave it at that. She was probably being silly, but she couldn't ignore the feeling. As Ian knocked on the back door and tried the handle, to find the door was locked, Barbara pulled the collar of her coat up to cover her shiver and looked around. The garden was unkempt, with roses that needed tying up and weeds at their base. The chalet had been empty for some months before the Foremans arrived, but they ought to have done something about the place. It was almost as if it was being used as a junk yard. There was a dummy in one corner and a pile of paintings by the hedge. But it was the shepherd's hut in the corner that really made her wonder.

"What on earth is that doing in here?" She'd seen similar huts on trips with the school, but they were generally found on remote hillsides, not in the back garden of a chalet..

"Hmm?" Ian cupped his hands on the windows to peer in.

Barbara sighed. "The shepherd's hut."

He finally gave up and turned round. "A shepherd's hut, here!" He didn't get more than a few steps before they heard footsteps. He motioned for Barbara to hide. Despite the junk in the garden much of it was small and the only hiding place was behind the hut, in the small gap between it and the hedge.

She couldn't resist peeking and she saw an elderly man come around the chalet and head straight for them. He had white hair and only wore a thin coat, but didn't appear to be cold. He must be Susan's grandfather, but wasn't quite as frail as Susan had made out.

Barbara pulled her head back just in time to see him open the door of the hut. Light spilled out from it, as if it had electric light, which was absurd. However, he didn't enter and instead frowned at something behind him and called out, "Is anyone there?"

Perhaps Ian or Barbara had moved a little or breathed too loud or a bird had flown from a tree, she wasn't sure. Now, though, she held her breath and kept perfectly still, but Ian reached out to take her hand. She hoped Dr Foreman didn't have good hearing.

If he had they didn't find out because a voice called out from inside the hut. "Grandfather, is that you?"

"Susan!" It was Susan's voice! They'd found her at last.

Ian shushed her, but it was too late and the old man was staring in their direction. Barbara came out into the open, Ian following behind, still holding her hand.

"What are you doing here?" the old man asked sharply.

Barbara couldn't blame him for being short with them when they were in his garden. "We're looking for Susan Foreman," she explained. "She had an accident earlier and we wanted to make sure she was all right."

The old man frowned. "Who are you?"

"I'm one of her teachers at the Chalet School. And this is Dr Chesterton from the Sanatorium." She waved a hand in his direction.

"Well, she's not here." He made it sound like there was no argument to that and Barbara wondered if he really cared about his granddaughter's health.

"But we saw her come in," Ian protested. "I gave her a lift from the San because she wanted to go home."

"You're hardly going to find her out here, are you? She'll be in the house, of course." Dr Foreman stepped away from the hut, turning to examine one of the paintings, despite it being too dark to see it clearly.

Ian shook his head. "I don't think anyone's in there. And why is there a shepherd's hut in here?"

"Why shouldn't there be?"

"You're not a shepherd."

"Aren't I?"

Ian had a stubborn look about him and Dr Foreman stood up straighter. Barbara worried the two of them could be arguing over that for a while. Ian did tend to want logical answers to things and it didn't look as if Dr Foreman was inclined to give any. It was probably just as well that she heard Susan call out again.

"What are you doing out there?"

"She's in there!" Ian rushed the door, beating the old man to it.

Barbara followed behind them, wanting to see Susan for herself. But once she was inside Barbara gazed open-mouthed at the large room that couldn't possibly have fit inside that hut.

**Author's Note:**

> Some of the dialogue is from the original _An Unearthly Child_ episode.


End file.
